Breaking Point
by thiskindalove
Summary: After meeting in a Sexaholics Anonymous meeting, Axel asks Roxas out on a date, although both are pretty sure that's going against the rules.


**Author's Notes:** I should probably apologise for this in advance. I haven't really written anything since I wrote _This Summer_ last summer, and, er. It sort of shows. Crappy plot, stupid idea, really odd, formal-sounding prose and even worse dialogue? LOL. Yeah, I think everything I write is shit. Unfortunately, this one's a gift for Azy, whose birthday was on Sunday, and so.

Yeah.

**Warnings, etc: **Eventual smut, and all of the above-mentioned.

**Etcetera: **Axel and Roxas belong to Disney Squenix, etc. I do not, and have never, laid claim to them, although I really wish I could. THIS PAIRING WOULD BE CANON IF I OWNED THE CHARACTERS.

They'd been dating for two months. They'd been dating for two months, and they shouldn't even be dating at all. The leaders of the Sexaholics Anonymous meeting would really look down on it; they'd tell them both that dating within the group is a really bad idea for someone hoping to recover from an addiction to sex.

But how could Roxas say no when Axel asked him if he was busy, if he wanted to catch the latest Bruce Willis at the local multiplex? Axel stood out right away with his shock of red hair, his green eyes that seem to twinkle when he smiles, and when Axel smiled, Roxas' knees sort of turned to jelly.

So Axel asked him to the movies: a simple Saturday night date. Movies, popcorn, a soda bigger than Axel's waist, and their fingers had kept on brushing together on the armrest; they kept reaching for popcorn at the same time, trading second-hand kisses through the single straw they were using in the huge cup of what was rapidly becoming melted ice with added Coke.

At the end of the night, Roxas had driven Axel home, had come out of the car to walk him to the door of his shitty little apartment block, had thought that Axel was going to kiss him there and then, and _fuck_, he wanted him to.

But Axel didn't kiss Roxas then. Axel didn't kiss Roxas until their third date, after a night at the circus. Axel kissed Roxas gently, enough to make Roxas' stomach do a flip, to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, to make him want more.

It didn't last nearly long enough, in Roxas' opinion, but there was always more kisses. More kisses stolen before going in to the meeting, more kisses after meetings, kisses after dinner dates and meeting at the library to study for their separate courses at separate community colleges, both of them academically retarded, or so it seemed.

Kissing is all they'd ever done, though, and when Roxas asked Axel about it, Axel always skirted the subject. "Just don't wanna screw up again," he'd say, and Roxas, six months at the meeting and six months without touching himself, six months having control of his own lust, understood, and didn't ask again.

[x]

They'd been dating six months when Axel appeared at the window of Roxas' first-floor rented room, tossed a pebble at the window, and produced a bouquet of white roses from behind his back.

"Happy six months, Rox," he'd said, and Roxas had smiled, had let him into the shared house to leave him in the shared living room, looking at the shared furniture while Roxas changed his clothes.

Their six month anniversary, and they'd made reservations for a restaurant, planned to go back to Axel's apartment and watch movies and fall asleep on the couch before bedtime, curled around one another.

"It's my one year at the meeting," Roxas said, looking at Axel across the table, smiling mostly at himself. "And, d'you know, I never thought I'd make it to a week, let alone six months. Let alone a year."

Looking through the candlelight at Roxas, Axel nodded. "I know the feeling. Hell, I've only managed six months and a week, but..."

He stopped talking then, their meal served, and they exchanged what seemed like small talk but was just the two of them getting to know each other, still, after six months. Axel gestured a lot while he spoke; Roxas sat still, watching him, eating quietly and occasionally telling a story of his own, but Axel was so animated and passionate about his life that it was hard to tell him to stop.

Roxas was the only one with a car. Axel had been served with a DUI on the way home from his third meeting at AA, had been sober and without a car since. No chance to drink and drive if you don't have a car. He'd been eighteen, or so he'd told Roxas, and could have killed somebody.

Axel was the only one who lived on his own. Roxas lived with a bunch of guys who attended the same college as him, called him a faggot behind his back, and kept on eating the food he left in the shared fridge so that Roxas had bought a lock for his room door, had bought one of those little fridges meant for chilling beer, and only kept items in the freezer when he couldn't keep them fresh. Roxas liked Axel's apartment very much, had only been in it once or twice before, but it.

It was like Axel, very Axel. Old, classic vinyl records in a box beside a player - Axel didn't own an iPod or a stereo, believed that everything sounded better when it sounded like it was being played through a wet paper bag. The couches were probably sixth or seventh-hand junk, falling apart but so comfortable to sprawl on, Roxas' head pillowed in Axel's lap, the redhead stroking Roxas' hair as he looked down at him.

"Happy six months, princess," Axel said, and Roxas couldn't help but smile. He couldn't remember why Axel had called him a princess - his stubborn attitude, his ability to spend two hours in the morning primping over his hair while Axel waited in the shared living room waiting for a ride to college, or the fact that Roxas used to visibly prickle when Axel called him it - but it had stuck, familiar, well-worn.

Roxas reached a hand up, stroking his hand over Axel's cheekbone, his thumb over those facial tattoos that Axel had never explained and Roxas had never asked about, and brushed his thumb over Axel's lower lip.

That's when time seemed to freeze.

Axel's breath stopped for a second, caught in his throat. Roxas licked his lips, an almost nervous habit that Axel had realised meant that Roxas wanted to kiss him. Roxas _always_ wanted to kiss him. Axel always wanted Roxas to kiss him, but...

Roxas sat up and looked at Axel, his blue eyes darkening with fear or lust or both. "I should go," he said, and stood up, except that Axel caught his wrist, pulled him back down, onto his lap and wrapped his arms around the blond, to stop him from going.

"No, you shouldn't," Axel replied, tugged Roxas' mouth down to his own. Still soft, still enough to make Roxas' entire body tingle, make his cock wake up and pay attention, and they'd never gone further than that, never gone further than Axel daring to slide his tongue into Roxas' mouth. Never been hands under their clothes. Hands in hair, stroking, holding on, yes.

It was like Axel was afraid, Roxas thought, like they were both afraid of breaking and falling back into their own ways. Two sexaholics together, in a relationship, couldn't really be healthy if they let it interfere with their recovery-

"I think we should go to your bedroom."

Roxas heard himself say it, not quite believing that he had, but there's this look on Axel's face that says, quite clearly: _yes, yes, yes_.

They're not animals about it. They both keep their clothes on until they reach Axel's bedroom, a single bed in a room the size of a closet, his clothes scattered around the place, and Roxas smiled, looking around, stepping on pairs of jeans likely too small for Axel's height now.

Roxas stopped at the end of the bed, looked at Axel, and reached for the buttons of his shirt. Axel watched, of course Axel watched, his cock hard in his jeans at the sight of his boyfriend of six months undressing. Tanned skin, a few silvery scars here and there that Axel never asked about, and when Roxas dropped his jeans, Axel sucked in a breath, because Roxas wasn't wearing any underwear, and Roxas was _hard_ for him.

Axel fumbled for a minute, his mouth unable to really work properly, just moving and making no sound.

"I."

Roxas raised his eyebrows, licked his lips again, that same nervous habit. "Everything okay?" he asked, his knees against Axel's bed, ready to move back onto it, ready to say fuck it to his year of rehabilitation.

Axel shook his head, minutely.

"I, uh," Axel started, and Roxas moved toward him, fingers moving to the buttons of Axel's shirt, to undress him if Axel was too nervous to do it himself. "I'm sort of a virgin."

Roxas stopped unbuttoning the lowest button, and looked up at Axel, disbelieving.

"But you're a sexaholic," Roxas said, his blue eyes a little wide, a little curious.

"I, uh. No, I'm not really. I was told it was a great place to meet people," Axel replied, and bit his lip, soothed it with his tongue a second later. "But I've totally been on the program for six months and a week, and can I tell you how hard that's been?"

Roxas let out a sort of choked laugh. "Hard? How's it been hard for you?"

Axel grinned, glad that Roxas wasn't just leaving as soon as he could. "Well, I've been dating you for six months, trying not to break your rehab," he replied, and had the good grace to blush. "Fuck, Rox. I've never met anybody like you before. You make me _crazy_."

Roxas dropped his hands to his side, swallowed hard. "I... I hope in a good way."

"What do _you_ think?" Axel asked in reply, ducked his mouth to Roxas' to kiss him, pulled him against himself. "I mean, shit. You think it's easy for a twenty-year-old virginal alcohol high-school drop-out to meet somebody like you?"

"We've been dating six months, Ax," Roxas said, still blinking a little. "And you've not tried anything. You've not tried to break my streak, not tried anything on with me. Why not?"

Axel shrugged. "I don't go in for rape."

Roxas licked his lips again, and backed up, backed up against Axel's bed and sat down, scooted back to the pillows and made himself comfortable.

"It wouldn't have been rape. It would've never been rape," Roxas replied, and smiled, patted the bed next to himself, a space that only Axel could really fit.

Axel grinned and shucked off his clothes as fast as he could; his cock was hard enough already, had been hard for Roxas for six fucking months already, willed it down when he tried to sleep, willed it down with cold water in the morning when he was in the shower. Six months of not jerking off, and Axel was finally naked with Roxas.

Naked, in bed, with naked Roxas.

Roxas was the one to start the kiss. Axel drew the blond on top of himself, pulled him down to kiss him, slipped his tongue into Roxas' mouth and curled a hand around his cock.

Six months of not jerking off, six months of waking up to a hard-on, and neither of them lasted long the first time as Axel jerked Roxas off and Roxas rolled his hips in little circular motions against Axel's cock, and Roxas came on Axel's chest and Axel came between Roxas' legs.

They rested a little, still kissing; there was always more kissing. Stolen kisses with Roxas spread out on top of Axel, while Axel kissed him, stroked his skin and tugged gently at carefully-crafted spikes, mussed Roxas' hair until Roxas pinned Axel's hands above his head and Axel's cock jumped back to life.

Roxas was thorough when he slid his fingers into Axel. Stroked him and stretched him until they were both gasping and sweating, Roxas swearing blind that he'd never last, was Axel sure he wouldn't rather fuck Roxas, and Axel just nodded, spread his legs for Roxas, let Roxas slide into him as he gripped Roxas' hips and moaned, throat exposed as he threw his head back, a long lean line for Roxas to lick as he fucked Axel, wrapped Axel's legs around his waist and leaned over him, being so fucking careful, so fucking gentle.

Roxas rocked his hips into Axel as deep as he could and felt Axel come hard, felt every muscle tighten for a second, legs around his hips and fingers around his arms, and when Axel looked at Roxas and looked so fucking lost, so thankful, so grateful, _so in love_ that Roxas couldn't hold back.

When Roxas came inside Axel, Axel could swear that he could feel it; he held Roxas inside, wouldn't let him pull out until Roxas complained that he was too soft and it was too tight and too hot inside Axel and _fuck_ please let him pull out. That they could do it again and again, any way Axel wanted. Axel could fuck Roxas, could suck his cock, Roxas would let Axel come on his face if he wanted to.

And afterwards, both streaked with come and sweat, with Axel asleep in Roxas' arms, Roxas had to smile. Six months of waiting for both of them to break had been _totally_ worth it.


End file.
